How The Fuck Do You Think I Am?

I’m apologizing in advance to all of the male readers, but honestly, if you haven’t yet dealt with a woman and her “time of the month” then I must ask – where have you been hiding? By the way, I would also like to say that I loathe the phrase “time of the month.” I can hear some Southern woman somewhere using that as an excuse to her friends because she has just been ashamed of her child’s unruly behavior.

“I do apologize for LuAnne’s un-lady like behavior at the dinner table.
She seems to be a little bit testy. You know, it’s her (voice turns to
whisper) time of the month” – then you hear all of the “poor dear” and “bless
her heart” responses.

Well, a few weeks back, it was MY time of the month. And, per my normal routine, I marched my aching back and writhing ovaries down to the CVS to make my “monthly purchase.” Now, normally when I go to the CVS, I usually get stuck with the same check-out clerks each time: the sweet, young African-American woman; or, the tall, gangly, middle-aged white guy with balding blond hair, a pony tail, and thick horn-rimmed glasses (let’s just call him Ron b/c in all honesty, that’s what he looks like). In these kinds of situations, you’re always hoping that you a) don’t run into somebody you know, and (b) that you fall into a line with a check-out clerk of the same sex. To me, buying tampons is equally as embarrassing as buying condoms. I guess I’m stuck in my junior high mentality of not wanting anyone to bust me with a box of tammies b/c then everyone would know that I was a woman – blasphemy! And with regards to the condoms, I wish I could actually get busted buying some these days, because that would mean that I was in deed having sex – boooooooooooo.

Okay, so a few days before this particular day I was in Ron’s check-out line buying some cleaning supplies. Noticing the abundance of chemicals I was purchasing, Ron says “you going home to do the dirty?” Which I have to say was pretty freaking hilarious, and replied “it’s only dirty if you get down on your hands and knees.” Okay, so I didn’t say that to Ron, but if Ron were better looking I probably would have. Well, it also happens that I ALWAYS fall into Ron’s line when I am buying my feminine products. I typically don’t like to stereotype menstrual moods, but sometimes you just flat out feel uncomfortable, sweaty and irritated - thus morphing your otherwise charming personality into the devil. So I get up to the front of the line with my purchase, and as Ron rings me up he says “Is everything right with the world today – how is it treating you?” Gee Ron, I’m not sure, I just threw down 20 bucks for 72 fucking tampons – how the fuck do you think I feel today? It took every ounce of my being not to hurl my Playtex Sports in his face. But then I thought, maybe Ron is in that 1% of the male population who just doesn't know what it's like during that "time of the month." So kudos to Ron for his ignorance and his positive attitude in curing PMS with one bitch at a time.